


It's A Nine

by xDx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Tumblr did it, apology flowers, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xDx/pseuds/xDx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Above him hung the sign, mocking his pain, "How mad is she?" with increasingly large bouquets beside it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"I need your help!" Derek yelled frantically, eyebrows at an all-time high. "It's a nine!"</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's A Nine

**Author's Note:**

> I came across [this post](http://castielinablanket.tumblr.com/post/51537145641/merlinsbearditsthedoctor-no-but-i-can-just) on Tumblr and immediately thought about Derek failwolfing it up, and figured that the only thing I could imagine him doing is, well... read on. ;)

Derek tore down the street, heart pumping with adrenaline unlike anything he'd felt before in his life. Sweat poured down his face as he rounded the corner, gasping for breath. He sped his pace as he saw it before him: the biggest, pinkest florist in all of Beacon Hills.

Without pausing, he threw open the double doors and flew to the serving window that separated the storefront from the back workshop. Above him hung the sign, mocking his pain, "How mad is she?" with increasingly large bouquets beside it.

"I need your help!" Derek yelled frantically, eyebrows at an all-time high. "It's a nine!" The customer he'd cut in line recoiled in disgust. The receptionist/cashier gasped, her hand reflexively slapping across his face.

Through it all, Derek stood panting and sweating and generally being exhausted. The three florists visible in the back room who had been staring at him speechlessly burst into action.

"Are there any allergy restrictions?" Hands grasped a bundle of red roses. "Is there a preference on color? How does she feel about peonies?" More flowers were collected and tucked into the growing pile. All three worked diligently as, before Derek's eyes, a masterpiece of floral perfection was created.

By the time they finished, Derek had already pressed his credit card into the ludicrously judgmental palm of his cashier. She swiped it as he finally realized the till read "$300". He whimpered imperceptibly, but took the plastic card back without complaint, eyes gluing themselves back to the bouquet being born.

Behind him, in the main store area, four women had gathered to whisper guesses at his transgressions. "Look at that face, he could have anyone he wanted. I'm guessing he did!" "No, his blazer looks a little worn in. I bet he got fired from work and he lost his IRA." "Ooh, good one! Maybe they lost the house in Martha's Vineyard." "Be serious, this is a NINE."

Finally, his bouquet was finished, a monstrous spread of red and white roses, blue and violet hyacinths, white and pink tulips, and a range of other flowers Derek didn't recognize. The colors improbably worked well together, and it was a truly spectacular and humbling sight to behold. It was bigger and grander than the spread at the altar of Lydia and Jackson's ridiculous fantasy wedding last year.

The lead florist approached him warily, seemed to hesitate, then handed them over. Derek took them reverently, hissing out a pained, "Thank you."

"Use them well," the florist replied, her eyebrows conveying the stern seriousness behind her statement. Derek backed away from the counter, nodding his head at the florists, the cashier, and the gossip-mongers in turn as he delicately grasped the bouquet in hand.

The careful run back to the hospital took longer than Derek was used to because, duh, werewolf, but he arrived before the real action had started.

"Dude, where the hell have you been?" Scott screeched, pausing in his pacing as he caught Derek's scent behind him. When he turned, he froze. Beside him in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting area, Allison burst into sobs. "Whoa. Really, bro? I think you went a little..."

"They're beautiful," came a dazed voice from behind the alpha. He turned to see Lydia, her gaze longingly lingering on the flowers. He couldn't tell if she was close to tears or if those were heart-eyes as he noticed her eyes were particularly shiny. Even Jackson seemed to give pause in his constant snootiness to glance at the flowers.

Their moment was interrupted with painful screaming. Just then, Ms. McCall rushed out of the closest room nearby.

"Oh, Derek, those are lovely. You should really probably get in here."

Gulping, the alpha werewolf approached the door carefully, flowers-first.

"DEREK HALE, YOU MOTHERFUCKING--what? Are those for..." With relief, Derek heard his favorite sound in the world: Stiles's laughter. "Wow, these really must be the good drugs." Derek peeked around the bouquet, his face earnest.

"Do you like them?" Stiles's shoulders were shaking under his hospital gown. He could barely speak through his laughter.

"I--haha--of course. What an idiot! I was just kidding when I said you--hahaha--owed me flowers for this." Stiles snorted happily, his hand coming to rest on his swollen stomach. "Also, I'm heavily drugged, what the hell?"

Derek set the flowers down on the side table, beside the Sheriff whose look of utter disbelief had still not changed. Sighing in relief, the alpha approached the bed, reaching out to rest a hand lovingly on Stiles's cheek, his thumb petting gently.

"Just, for future reference," Stiles told his husband happily, "when I tell you I want to do the magically-induced, natural birth for our puppies, remind me that it feels like before we were friends with Deucalion. You know, when he tried to rip my intestines out that one time?"

Stiles pulled at Derek's clothes until the werewolf acquiesced to climb into bed with him, barely fitting between the two of them. Or, should he say, the four of them.

"I told you not to call them puppies," Derek muttered under his breath. Just then, Derek felt the contraction that pulled at his mate's body, and cursed his luck as Stiles glared up at him and inhaled angrily to start in on a tirade. Derek wondered if he would make it out alive to go get another bouquet...


End file.
